Lapointe and Mr. Creepy were hogtied on the floor of the flight deck. Sasha, Assuras and Reeves were present and interrogating them. “And here I thought you survived on that baseship because you were a computer genius. Only you’re just a fraking computer too!” The Captain was obviously agitated, his belligerent demeanour caused by the memory of having worked so many hours alongside the enemy. But none of his peers were complaining. In fact, Lieutenant Gains was openly hostile and revelled in each opportunity to strike and degrade the prisoners.
“He’s a Simon model. A little younger and normally masquerades as a doctor but any technical field will do.” Just as Leoben finished speaking, Gains stomped on his crotch again and told him to shut up unless spoken to. “I’m not a fraking cylon!” he was wincing in pain and struggled against his bonds trying to curl up in a foetal position. “I’m what the toasters call a shadow. A human spy altered to look like them.” Sasha smiled sadistically, kicking him once more. Then turned toward Lapointe and did the same. She chuckled as she looked at her superiors told them she didn’t want Lapointe to feel left out.
The conditions aboard Toaster One were sparse at best, but nevertheless a marine paramedic was tending to their injuries of Forester and Max. “I hear the Admiral has given the order to bug out. If you don’t mind my saying so, I think you two are fraking heros. Destroying an enemy airbase with captured raider you didn’t know how to fly. Scuttlebutt is that even the plane is in good shape.” The chief winced as his nose was set and asked if it was true that Ford piloted the hauler that saved them. “Don’t know anything about that. But I do know the Captain put the man in a room next to the airlock and told him he could use it anytime he felt sorry for himself.” Chief Forester smiled at the thought of major a-hole being flushed into space. Chaos then ensued in CIC causing everyone to scramble to his or her posts.
Still tightly bound, Mr. Creepy and the Simon cylon were stuffed into body bags and thrown in back of the raptor. The Captain had every intention of dissecting the robots and analyzing their internal systems for potential weaknesses. Having passed the Chief in a hallway, lieutenant Ford raced down to the flight deck to personally deliver the message to the Captain. “Argus is under attack and you’re needed in CIC.”
Crewmen were screaming franticly as reports of hits against the battlestar occurred. It was painfully obvious that they were in no situation to render any help. Major Assuras started barking orders to ascertain more information when Reeves cut her off with a bellow for silence. He walked into the centre of CIC, and began to pace in silence. The Major observed him for several seconds and resumed taking command.
The captain cut her off once again and barked an order. “Ford I need you to spool up the FTL….” Assuras crossed the floor and stood in the man’s personal space, snarling at him, “We aren’t abandoning the Argus…Captain!” She placed great emphasis on his rank in order to dominate him and take control of the situation. But like his nickname, the junkyard dog wasn’t going to let someone take over his territory and he quickly bared his teeth at the woman, “This is my ship! And until the Admiral says otherwise, I’m in command here and that means you take orders from me!” Looking her in the eyes with a cold stare, he undid the clasp of his side arm’s holster. “I’m not fraking running away… I’m jumping into that basestar and you’re going to get everyone out of here before I do it!” Cupcake looked at him dumbfounded, because her first thoughts were that he was going to die. As such, she failed to quickly react as the weight of his words set in. Reeves bellowed, snapping her back to reality, “That’s an order! Now haul your ass soldier!” She turned quickly and proceeded to carry out the command.
As Cupcake led the exodus from CIC, the captain continued to bellow commands, “Contact Argus and tell them to stop chasing the enemy”; he needed the basestar to hold still. “Major, you have less than 15 minutes to evacuate everyone”. As personnel began to quickly vacate CIC, Ford noted they had a problem. The FTL computer that Reeves had re-installed was offline again. He could still spool up the engines manually but without computer they had no way of inputting the coordinates. A vacating crewman momentarily paused and relayed the information that several of the newly laid network cables in section 3 had been accidentally cut by a wielding crew.
Just like when he took command of the old battlestar in the scrap yard, captain Reeves found himself being a problem solver again. With his eyes closed he snarled, “Great fraking time to tell me!” He ran towards the nearby airlock to get a space suit. The crewman looked at lieutenant Ford and tried to explain that no one thought it was important because the Admiral said they were going to bug out in a few hours. The Lieutenant dismissed her with a wave of his hand because he knew this meant he wouldn’t be abandoning ship with everyone else.
Because large sections of the haul had been stripped away, section 3 was now exposed to space. As the Captain rushed to get his suit and gear on, he talked to Ford, “For what it is worth, you’re probably far better at handling the injector flows than I am. So do that and crunch the numbers while I re-establish the network. We jump the moment everyone is off and we have a green board.” With this he put his helmet on and headed to do the repair work.
In a weird sort of ordered chaos everyone was evacuating the ship. Major Assuras was giving orders on the flight deck making sure that not only did everyone get safely off but that any last minute jobs were done. Otherwise someone could get hurt, Reeves plan could fail or people could get left behind. Since two men were about to sacrifice their lives she didn’t want to frak things up. Even more so because the Captain was someone she really wanted to explore a relationship with. “Sasha, get on communications and contact the Admiral. Tell him to stop chasing the enemy and that request comes under my authority. Enemy is most likely monitoring communications so don’t say why.”
Lieutenant Bear delivered the news of two more problems. The rear of the hauler hadn’t been emptied. It was estimated to take 10 minutes or a crew to clear it and chief Cudrows, the man who flew the craft to the ship, was passed out drunk. Cupcake put two fingers in her mouth and let out a hard loud whistle. “People!! I want every available hand throwing crap out that machine and don’t be polite about it! I want it emptied in 3 minutes and everyone suited up in 5! Bear, you’re flying one of the raptors and throw Scuds in it too. Max, you’ve got the hauler and I’ll take the raider. If there is still a pilot for the communications raptor, tell him to haul ass!”Boxes were tossed to one side of the hauler and everyone that would be ridding in the back suited up. And inside of 10 minutes the planes began to leave the flight deck.
Although the raider was packed with personnel, as Cupcake worked the controls, she began to tear up. “Hera, I’m begging you. Look after Scott and Ford as they cross over into the underworld. And please don’t let their sacrifices be in vane.” Several of the passengers heard her whisper the prayer and responded with a sombre, “So say we all.”
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Reeves was just finished patching the computer lines as he saw the hauler pull away from the ship. He thoughts were of his wreaking yard crewmen, how far he had come in his life and of his only real friend, Julian Forester. In hindsight it wasn’t much of life, but it was what he chose. He just couldn’t believe it was going to end soon. With a sigh, he proceeded to re-enter the pressurized section of the ship. At least it would be over quickly, and if nothing else, people should remember his death.
He took off his helmet and Ford handed him the coordinates while relaying the status information that the ship appeared to be clear, the basestar stopped moving and the engines were hot. “After I input the data it should take about 3 or 4 minutes to upload to the jump systems. My repairs weren’t very polite, so the system is going to be slow.” His fingers danced on the keyboard for several seconds, hit enter and began watching the information packets stream on the monitor. “That’s it and now once the number reaches zero remaining, we will get a green board and one of us has to manually trigger the jump.” Ford nodded and stepped behind the Captain.
“Is there anything else that needs the two of us?” Lieutenant Ford inquired. Reeves said no. “Good, I thought so! Remember when I was your superior and you belted me?” The Captain started to turn his head, wondering if the last moments of his life were going to be arguing with Major A-hole. But he never got the chance to turn around, as the Lieutenant swung a workman’s wrench, hard, striking Reeves in the head, knocking him unconscious. He then grabbed the man’s helmet and re-attached it to the spacesuit. “I want to die with you about as much as you want to die with me.”
Dragging the captain’s limp body toward the nearby airlock, Ford sarcastically chided, “Yes sir, I know the way to the airlock. See my quarters are right beside it!” He suppressed a chuckle as he hit the controls, opened the port and tossed Reeves in, stopping momentarily to turn on the suit’s locater signal. He smirked at the poetic irony, closing the door. “No need to depressurize first. I’m just going to flush you!” He hit the controls, and watched the rear of the airlock open and captain Reeves body get sucked into space. “By the gods I can’t tell you how many times I dreamed of doing that.” He then bolted back to CIC.
Looking at the monitor he noticed that about 25% of the data remained to be uploaded. As he watched the packet flow, he quietly reflected, “Dad, it wouldn’t have hurt to for you pat me on the back once in awhile. When I scored 98% on a test you wanted the other 2%.” He looked at the monitor and realized that everything around him was taking on a surreal quality. “I joined the military to get the hell away from you. But still you haunted me and because of it I fraked up. I caused the death of a good person.” He then smiled to himself, the counter was almost to zero. “Well, this is it, when I see you on the other side, you can hug me or tell me to frak off! ”
The upload completed and the monitor flashed green. Lieutenant Jim Ford’s hand hesitated momentarily over the switch to begin the jump. Addressing his father one last time, “I don’t care because I’m free of you at last”, Ford sealed his fate and flipped the switch. Toaster one’s engines whined for a long second and then the jump occurred. Outside the ship to everyone looking, it simply disappeared and instantaneously the enemy basestar exploded. The Argus although damaged, would live to fight another day.
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CIC aboard the battlestar was in chaos. Smoke and personnel were running everywhere when petty officer Richards yelled that the basestar had disappeared off of Dradius. Sasha’s voice screamed louder than anyone’s over wireless. “Whoooo! They fraking did it!!” Assuras nodded her head as tears streamed down her face, “You saved us again.” And the Admiral ordered that his pilots clean up the remaining raiders.
As damage reports started to come in, Bridgeford stood beside the ship’s old man. “It’s amazing what you can find in a junkyard.” Hallis choked back his emotions simply thanked the gods for their reprieve. Richards then yelled for moment’s silence and the Colonel proceeded to say they could do that after they got the hell out of there. “No sir! I need silence; telemetry is offline. But I think there is someone out there in a suit and I need hear the sound to verify the signal.”
A burst of laughter came from the com officer. “All pilots accounted for and given the location, it had to be someone from Toaster one.” The Admiral quickly yelled out to order a raptor to investigate and for several minutes all work in CIC was done in silence.
And finally she spoke, “It’s Reeves sir and he is alive!” As cheers erupted in CIC, Richards relayed his current condition and cleared them for a priority medical landing. Hallis left Bridgeford in charge and went down to the landing bay. Reeves was conscious and having his head bandaged when the admiral arrived. The planes were starting to land and their engines could be heard in the background. Hallis walked over to the captain and shook his hand. “Your commands seem to always end with both a rescue and the destruction of a ship. I’m just glad that this time it was the enemy and not us.” The Captain said nothing; since he was alive, he couldn’t be the hero.
Cupcake approached with a spring in her step, “The gods must be smiling on you.” She bent down to hug the man but he remained stoke, slightly emotionless. He finally looked at her and spoke, “It was Ford. He knocked me out and flushed me out of the airlock. Completed the jump on his own.” Neither the Major nor the Admiral shared the stunned looks of other nearby crew. This action was reminiscent of the soldier they both remembered.
Hallis was paged to contact CIC and relayed information about their current condition. He scrunched his face and walked back to where the doctor was preparing to move Reeves to sickbay. “Captain, I’m being told they need 4 hours to get FTL back online. I hate to do this to you but I don’t want to push our luck and stick around. You know how to get more out of the men down there.” Reeves stood up, amidst the doctor’s protests. “Doctor, he is moving and needed in engineering. And I’m certain there are others to tend to.”
As he walked toward engineering, the admiral called out to him once more, “Mr. Reeves, before I forget.” The Captain turned around and Hallis yelled, “ATTENTION!” For the second time in his career he found himself being saluted by an admiral and his peers. Abruptly returning the gesture, he continued on toward engineering.